The death penalty: Catholics and Colorado candidates

Colorado Gov. John Hickenlooper’s decision last year to grant a “temporary reprieve” blocking the scheduled execution of convicted murderer Nathan Dunlop has, it seems, satisfied no one.

Death penalty proponents were outraged and the governor’s political adversaries energized. Yet death penalty opponents were equally unhappy as it represented the second time that the Governor had rejected their efforts — the first was when he announced that he would not sign proposed legislation to end the death penalty in Colorado.

The more recent report of an interview comment where the governor acknowledged that he could commute Dunlop’s death sentence if he’s not re-elected has, if anything, only added to confusion and anger.

Yet, let’s admit it. He has managed, as he said was his intention, to put capital punishment on our public agenda. In doing so, he provoked pent-up passions, but also provided occasion for more serious discernment.

I hope to contribute to such discernment by reminding readers of the remarkable shift in Catholic teaching about the death penalty.

Indeed, in the mid-19th century the Vatican (not today’s Vatican City, but the Papal States that then controlled a broad section of Italy) regularly executed criminals, as did virtually all states at that time. And then, of course, there is the terrible earlier history of the Catholic Inquisition’s use of death to punish heretics.

Yet in 1980 a majority of U.S. Catholic bishops voted for an official statement against the death penalty: “In the conditions of contemporary American society, the legitimate purposes of punishment do not justify the imposition of the death penalty.”

And the Bishops’ opposition has since grown ever more unified and vocal — in part, perhaps, because their opposition has been supported both by Pope John Paul II and by the catechism of the Catholic Church.

Strictly speaking, recent Catholic teaching does not absolutely forbid the death penalty, but opposes it in all situations where there are alternatives (such as life without parole) for punishment and for public safety.

John Paul in his 1995 encyclical, “The Gospel of Life,” explicitly noted that in modern societies the situation of having no alternatives is “very rare, if not practically non-existent.”

Their goal, they said, was “not just to proclaim a position, but to persuade Catholics and others to join us in working to end the use of the death penalty. We seek to help build a culture of life in which our nation will no longer try to teach that killing is wrong by killing those who kill.”

Denver’s bishops have, moreover, been consistent in supporting this Catholic campaign. In 1997, commenting on the conviction of Oklahoma City bomber Timothy McVey, Archbishop Charles Chaput argued that, even assuming a fair judicial process, “Killing the guilty is still wrong. It does not honor the dead. It does not ennoble the living. And while it may satisfy society’s anger for awhile, it cannot even release the murder victim’s loved ones from their sorrow, because only forgiveness can do that.”

He went on to say: “What the death penalty does accomplish is closure through bloodletting, violence against violence — which is not really closure at all, because murder will continue as long as humans sin, and capital punishment can never, by its nature, strike at murder’s root. Only love can do that.”

I also remember reading that it was in part a later conversation with Chaput that had led Hickenlooper to change his thinking about the death penalty.

In May 2013, commenting on the governor’s “temporary reprieve” for Nathan Dunlop, Denver’s present archbishop, Samuel Aquila, repeated his predecessor’s call for ending the death penalty in Colorado.

And the bishops’ campaign against the death penalty seems to be working. In sharp contrast to my experience in the 1950s, Catholic support for the death penalty has declined precipitously. One recent poll shows that only 24% of Catholics nationally (compared with 33 percent of the general population) support the death penalty when alternative punishments are possible.

Perhaps the strongest statement against the death penalty, and the most precise summary of Catholic teaching, comes not from a bishop or theologian, but from a victim’s family (cited in the Culture of Life and Penalty of Death pamphlet):

“No one in our family ever wanted to see the killer of our brother and his wife put to death. We felt instinctively that vengeance wouldn’t alleviate our grief. We wanted this murderer in prison so he could never hurt another person. But wishing he would suffer and die would only have diminished us and shriveled our own souls. Hatred doesn’t heal. Every time the state kills a person, human society moves in the direction of its lowest, most base urges. We don’t have to make that choice. Our lawmakers have the capacity to help us abolish the death penalty and along with it, the fantasy that it will make the pain go away.”

What might such Catholic witness against the death penalty mean for the coming Colorado governor’s race? It’s hard to know. The pundits are calling the death penalty a “wedge issue,” which I take to mean that it won’t be decisive for voters, including Catholics, but might tip the scales for some.

Bob Beauprez is a Catholic. I’ve met and talked with him, and he strikes me as a good man. He clearly but carefully differs from his church on capital punishment, as do other Catholics. And I respect that. How could I not as I’ve regularly argued for the rights of an individual Catholic’s conscience and for the difference between Catholic teaching and the practical and prudential judgments involved in political affairs.

Beauprez’s website notes that “Bob does believe capital punishment should be an option for our most heinous crimes.” It adds that decisions about capital punishment “are – and should be – among the most somber and emotionally trying decisions a governor has to make.” It ends by saying that “barring the revelation of any new or outstanding information, he would respect the difficult decision of the jury” in such cases. Indeed, as his TV ads remind us, he faults Hickenlooper for failing to make that difficult decision.

I’ve never met the governor, but I rather admire him for the very hard and principled decision he did make – not going ahead with Dunlop’s execution, but also not imposing his own anti-capital punishment convictions on the future – a decision he undoubtedly knew would probably not be popular and would cost him politically.

As both men seem to know, and all of us need to remember, politics may inevitably involve our passions, but must finally depend on our prudence, on our principled judgments, especially when those judgments don’t satisfy the demands of aroused passions.

I think people just expected him to take a stand, you might disagree with his stance one way or another but he should have an opinion. He has worked hard to not offend or take a stance and it’s hurt him. We don’t want a fence-sitter, we want a decisive leader. I’m against the death penalty, for the record.

Either Mr. Beauprez chooses to ignore his religion when it serves him politically , or doesn’t believe what it teaches to begin with. One way or another, he’s a HYPOCRITE for chastising the governor for NOT doing something his church and bible tell him is the FIRST COMMANDMENT. Is there a part of “THOU SHALT NOT KILL” that he fails to comprehend?

Where is your moral compass pointing? What are your social values? Hark will explore faith, morals, ethics and character at the intersection of religion ethics, culture, politics, media, science, education, economics and philosophy. At times this blog will alert readers to breaking news and trends. At times it will attempt to look more deeply into intriguing subjects. Hark means to listen attentively, and we will, as readers talk back to the news.